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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

carter

I’m sweating buckets.

Might actually die.

Coach doesn’t care, though. He just orders more drills. I think he might want us to puke all over this ice just so he can make us clean it up after it freezes.

We’re all paying for Reno and Cole’s behaviour.

I can’t even get mad because the team has had to pay for a lot of my mistakes in the past, but this one was particularly stupid.

At the end of the last game, our young guns got into a bit of a spat.

Barely noticeable, lasted less than ten seconds, but Coach spotted it, and that became a death sentence.

We all got reamed out in the locker room as a result.

We look weak when we’re at each other’s throats. That’s how our team operated before we became champions. We’re cup winners now. We don’t go at each other when we’re having a bad game. We can’t blame each other for it either, even if Reno was playing like a fucking moron.

It was Reno’s fault. He was in a mood yesterday. A sour one. Unlike me, when he is pissed about something, he can’t turn that into a stellar performance. No, Reno shits the bed when he’s got stuff going on.

Cole finally had enough, shoved him a bit too hard by the bench. Bad move. We could all tell that Reno was one incident away from snapping. A few choice words left Cole’s mouth and Reno tried to go full fucking tilt.

Saltzy shoved him into the boards instead. Ordered him off the ice. It was a quick exchange, but Coach was breathing fire.

Reno and Cole are practically fused together at the hip, so none of us expected it to ever get that bad between them.

“I’m going to fucking hurl.”

I glance over at Boston, who is bent over with his hands on his knees, his long dark hair falling in front of his face. We’re old. Washed up. Legends, but fucking old.

Declan, fuck him, glides easily toward us like he’s ten years younger. He smirks at the pair of us, dimples flashing. He’s sweating, but he isn’t panting, suffering, or almost spewing his breakfast up like the pair of us.

“Fuck you,” I bite out.

“I didn’t say anything.” He breathes a laugh.

“The fact that you can talk at all right now is enough,” Boss grumbles.

“I’m going to kill Reno with my bare hands.”

“He’s learned his lesson,” Declan tells me, pointing toward the boards. Sure enough, Reno is bent over them, skates in the air, garbage can pulled up to his mouth as he heaves.

What a dumbass.

Coach is beside him, barking at him with a stern glare, but that softness is back in his eyes. His face is not as red anymore, and his veins are back in his body where they belong. This punishment is over.

“Honestly, it’s like babysitting a bunch of children.” Saltzy glowers, skidding to a stop next to us. He shakes his head at Reno, but his shoulders relax a bit when Cole skates over and leans against the boards next to him, an easy smile on his mouth.

They’re back to being on good terms.

“I swear to god, that kid has been nothing but trouble since he got here.” Boston finally straightens.

“Forker was worse,” Saltzy points out.

I whip my head toward him. “Fuck off.”

“You were terrible,” Saltzy says, tossing me a glance. “Ego bigger than this building.”

“It’s called confidence.”

“More like arrogance, but close.” Declan shrugs.

Neither of them was even here at the beginning of my career. Saltzy got drafted two years after me, so he wasn’t on the team when I was considered a rookie. He was the rookie. Lowesy was traded even later from Ottawa.

Boss lets out a deep, rumbling laugh.

“He’s a good kid,” Saltzy says, and we’re all watching Reno now. Unruly hair and baby face. Young, full of life, full of energy. That was us at one point. Feels like yesterday and years ago at the very same time. “He’s just a fucking idiot.”

“Could have told you that when he put his dick in Irina.”

Saltzy’s grip flies off the top of his stick. He whirls to me, green eyes wide and stunned. “He fucked Irina?”

“Months ago,” Boston grumbles.

“Oh, she definitely has his spunk in a vial right now,” Saltzy mutters, shaking his head.

Declan barks out a loud laugh, but my stomach churns at the thought. It should be funny, but I can honestly see it happening, which makes it terribly unfunny.

“If he goes missing and his body parts show up in suitcases, we know who did it,” I add.

All three of the boys snicker at that .

When Coach blows the whistle, and after we get a tiny lecture about being a team, all the boys slap Reno on the back as they pass him and his puke bucket.

He’s still white as a ghost, but he’s grinning like a little boy in detention, slumped against the boards now.

I smack him on the head instead, hoping it helps the message sink in a bit more.

Don’t be an idiot unless you’re good at it.

When I get home, I plug in and join the boys for a few hours of Call of Duty . As usual, it gives me a good break from reality. Feels like I’m back in college again.

I went to school in Boston, and me and the boys would stay up to play until the early hours of the morning despite having class at eight.

I’d trudge through my day, exhausted but ready to do it all over again.

In the evenings, I’d get the privilege of skating with some of the best guys I’ve ever met.

Life was easy.

My phone buzzes next to me. I see her name and instantly drop my controller.

Arden

It’s your day tomorrow. What’s the plan?

I grin, cursing when I hear myself die through my headset. My friends are chirping me in my ear, but I’m too busy typing back to my faux girlfriend to care. The game can wait.

Me

It’s a surprise. Wear something nice.